


The Time Keeps Twisting Me (I Want To Be Brought Back To You)

by hemakeshimstrongx



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: And love, Crying, Drinking, Fighting, I Want To Write You A Song, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis hates nick, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Smut, Pizza, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, Screaming, Some Cuddling, THIS IS LOWKEY BASED ON A MOVIE, This Is Where I Leave You, WOOO, a cute reoccurring thing, alright tagging, alrighty., but there is sex, except he doesn't really hate him, harry calls louis Lou sometimes, he loves to call harry love, i love this okay, i mean i guess he's minor?, i'll explain more later, ice cream eating, it's just not described, larry is real, larry stylinson - Freeform, laughing, louis and harry have a thing, louis likes to call harry baby, perfect storms ;), so much fighting, this fic is my baby, this is an AU obviously, though i suppose it could happen, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemakeshimstrongx/pseuds/hemakeshimstrongx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Moments Directly Before And After.<br/>There are so many moments in life and each one must serve a purpose, to connect us from then, to there. So how couldn't you have known, that this would be one of them?" -pleasefindthis, I Wrote This For You And Only You. </p><p>or: One Direction has been broken up for over two years. Harry and Louis have been broken up for more than two years. None of the boys have seen each other since. When Nick Grimshaw passes away suddenly, tragically, the boys are forced to come together and fulfill his last dying wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time Keeps Twisting Me (I Want To Be Brought Back To You)

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is my baby. I have been working on this for ages now (alright, it's been like 2 weeks. I've been editing like crazy for the past couple days). I encountered a lot of problems with this fic, whether to write smut or not (I decided not to), why each one of the boys are mad at each other, how soon to make things happen, when to do this and when to do that. It's been a long and winding, bumpy road. Let's discuss some things: firstly, there's quotes scattered throughout the book that kind of sum up what's going on at the moment. They're all quotes from I Wrote This For You And Only You by pleasefindthis. This is one of my favourite books EVER. I love it so much. Thank you, Harry Styles, for turning me onto this. You're a godsend.  
> Secondly, Harry and Louis have this thing throughout the book. And it's based on this text post I saw, that someone thought up this: harry and Louis pat each other's backs three times and it's similar to this movie (can't remember the movie, sorry) where the couple develop this thing, where they tap something three times, whatever it is. It became their little secret. I became OBSESSED with the idea of Harry and Louis doing it, so I did what I do and wrote it into the fic.  
> OH. And I constantly have songs running through my head so there's some, like, song easter eggs in here. If you pick up on them congrats. It's mostly titles (Bad Blood and Better Than Words are the only two i can think of but there might be a few more). I think that's all I wanted to discuss. 
> 
> Remember this fic is my baby. It was nothing more than an egg, which I kept warm and safe until it hatched, then fed and nurtured until now. It is ready to fly like the swallows on Harry's chest. I can't believe I just used that bird imagery. Read my fic. Please. I'll love you. 
> 
> Follow my twitter: youreyesonlyx  
> Tumblr: darlingyourdemonsallooklikeme  
> IG i guess if ya really wanna know me: kelly.driver13 
> 
> Enjoy, leave comments, kudos, all that fun stuff. Thank you in advance xx

**The Soft Crackle.**  
_Yet love's like a needle on a record, taking parts of you away is it draws sharply and constantly across the heart, in slow descending circles, just to hear a song hidden in the scratches one more time._

 

Harry wasn't expecting the three AM phone call. It was quite the cliché, really. Harry's friend of seven years, Nick Grimshaw, passed away in a car accident. He was driving home from a bar in LA when he got hit by another drunk driver, killed on impact.

Harry also wasn't expecting to read the words he is right now.  _'I want a One Direction reunion. Not like a tour or a performance or something. I want those boys to get together at my house on the coast and I want them to work their problems out. Seven days. Work it out. They can bring their girlfriends or whatever they may have. But that's it._

"He can't be serious," Harry says, staring in awe at the lawyer. "This has to be a joke."

"I know just as much as you do," the man shrugs. "I've already contacted the other boys, they're aware of the situation and their flights land soon."

Harry seriously wants to kill himself. He just wants to smash his head through this wooden table or stab himself in the heart or something.

He hasn't seen the boys in over two years. One Direction ended in 2016, right after it was promised that they wouldn't end. Everyone could see it coming, though, so. Every single relationship fell apart. On the day they ended everything words were thrown like knives and they haven't spoken since that day. If you asked Harry about how his relationship with Liam or Niall or even Zayn fell apart, he's not sure he could tell you. But if you asked Harry how his relationship with Louis ended up in ruins, Harry could probably tell you about that. They definitely didn't fall out of love. If anything, they fell even more in it. But somehow something happened and things went wrong and they played their cards wrong. Whatever happened, happened, and there's no way they can change it.

Harry stops at his own home before heading to Nick's. He packs a suitcase and makes the drive out to his beach house. There's already a car out front when he gets there. It's safe to say that Harry is dreading this. Completely, one hundred percent dreading it. He thinks about the end of the week, when they'll have to attend Nick's funeral, and decides he's dreading that too. He doesn't understand why Nick's family is waiting so long for the service, but, hey, to each their own.

Inside, he drops his suitcase by the door and figures he can come back and get it later. The person who comes around the corner is Zayn, whom Harry hasn't seen in the flesh in nearly three whole years.

"Long time no see," Harry breathes out. "The others here?"

"Liam and Niall are close, I don't know about Lou. Figured you might?"

"Oh. We're... Um, we're not... yeah."

Zayn arches his eyebrows. "I leave the band and you give up on your relationship?"

"I guess we're both pretty good at giving up on things, huh?" Harry says bitterly.

"Oh, okay. So, um, do you know why Grimmy wanted this?"

"He's a fucking idiot, that's why."

"It's a really nice house, though," Zayn admits. "I took the bedroom down here. Unless you or one of the other boys want it."

"No, whatever. How many are there?"

"Four, I think."

Harry nods slowly, "Alright." Technically the last person to arrive should take the couch. Harry should get a bedroom. But he knows he won't. Maybe because that's just who he is, or because even after all this time the other boys still have him completely whipped.

Liam and Niall show up together. Things were the least bitter between the two of them, Harry knows this. And he's kind of jealous. He's bitter with everybody for reasons he can't really remember, but he's not willing to cave. When Louis arrives, Harry is scavenging the kitchen for something to eat while Zayn plays meaningless things on the piano and Liam and Niall watch TV. Harry's half expecting him to show up with some guy on his arm or something. Expects to see him moved on. He comes into the house with both earbuds in and a bag slung over his shoulder. Unaccompanied. Harry may or may not release a big breath.

"Hello boys," he says mock-cheerily, not bothering to take out an earbud. "Let's try not to make these seven days miserable, yeah?"

"Fucking asshole," Harry says under his breath, shutting the fridge.

Louis pulls an earbud out. "What?"

"I called you an asshole," Harry says, loud enough that the boys in the living room can hear too.

"You can't be mad at me, Harry, you're the one who suggested we take a break anyway, no?" Louis reminds. "Where can I sleep?"

"Upstairs." Liam replies, saving Harry from having to.

This is going to be a long week, Harry determines. Nobody sees Louis for the rest of the day. "Are you cooking, Harry?" Zayn asks.

"There's nothing to cook. When Grimmy stuck us here he clearly didn't consider our own food needs."

"I'll order something," Zayn says. "Pizza alright with everyone?"

The other three nod.

"D'you think Lou..." Zayn looks at Harry.

"Jalapeños." Harry says softly. "Not positive, but they're probably still his favourite."

Zayn nods. "Alright."

Harry explores downstairs to see if anything has changed from the last time he visited Nick. The last time was a week before the accident, and they'd talked in depth about each one of the ex-One Direction boys. Nick had maintained constant contact between all five of them after the split (much to Louis' annoyance), and relayed back to Harry with how the others were doing. They never really talked about Louis, though. They did it because even though there was bad blood between the five of them, especially from when Zayn left, Harry still cared about all of them. Maybe just not so much Louis.

Anyway, they'd had this in depth conversation about the boys and how they were doing. Nick had said something about maybe getting together with them, but Harry brushed the idea away immediately. When the doorbell rings and the front door shuts, Harry hears Zayn call Louis' name. He turns around and heads back down the hallway to the main part of the house, where Liam is opening the pizza boxes.

When the four boys are sitting down at the table without saying anything, Louis comes down the stairs in joggers and an Adidas tee shirt. Harry notes that he hasn't changed a bit. Aside from the fact that he's two years older.

"How come Grimshaw brought us here?" he's saying as he opens the pizza box.

"I guess we'll never know," Niall shrugs.

Harry watches Louis' expression go soft at the sight of the pizza in the box. "Who picked jalapeños?" he asks softly.

"Harry did," Liam replies without thinking twice about it.

Louis makes eye contact with Harry for the first time since he got here. "Thanks." he says.

Harry nods, looking back down at his pizza. "Yeah, of course."  
  
  


**The Complications Start With You.**  
_Here is the simple truth about people: love the ones you want to keep._

 

"Hey, Haz," Zayn says softly, closing the patio door a bit behind him. "Can't sleep?"

"The couch sucks." Harry notes.

"I would've taken it, I assumed you and Louis were still together and you'd be sleeping with him." He comes and sits in the lounge chair next to Harry, looking out over the ocean.

"Yeah, I know."

They fall silent, but it's not necessarily uncomfortable. "I missed you," Harry says finally.

Zayn looks over at him. "Really?"

Harry laughs at the fact that Zayn is even questioning it. Of course he missed him. "Yeah, really. We all did. It was hard."

"I couldn't do it," Zayn shakes his head. "I tried for so long, Louis knows, I told him-"

"You talked to Louis about it?"

"Yeah, he didn't tell you?"

Harry shakes his head. "No. We weren't always open books, you know."

"I assumed there was always some type of pillow talk going on between the two of you. You were just so connected. So in love, too, everyone could see it, you just couldn't tell them."

Silence falls again, just the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It could be some kind of metaphor, Harry realizes. The ocean and the waves. For love, maybe. The ocean a metaphor for love. For Harry and Louis' love. It's pretty and everything but if you're not careful, the ocean can swallow you up and never spit you back out. Harry thinks that might have been what happened with his and Louis' relationship.

"Do you forgive me? For leaving." Zayn asks suddenly.

"There's no reason why I shouldn't," Harry replies. "You couldn't do it any more. Your health is more important than anything."

"Louis doesn't forgive me, right?"

Harry furrows his eyebrows. "I don't know, I can't speak for him anymore. As of right now it doesn't look like he's forgiving anyone, he's being a complete asshole about everything."

Zayn stands up abruptly, holding his hands out for Harry to take. "Come on."

Harry quirks an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Let's go to bed."

"Are you looking for sex? Just cause I'm desperate and I miss Louis—" Harry cuts himself off abruptly when he realises where the sentence was headed.

Zayn hums knowingly. "No, no sex. Just sleep, you can crash in my bed with me."

And, if Harry's got to stay here for the next seven full days, at least he's got a friend now.

Harry falls asleep cuddled up with Zayn to the sounds of the ocean coming through the windows. He wakes up the same way, just to someone banging on and opening the door.

"Tell me you fucked," Louis deadpans.

Harry opens his eyes slowly, glaring at Louis. "No, we didn't fuck." If Harry would have sex with anyone in this house, it'd be Louis without a doubt. Shit.

"Um, I made breakfast, if you have any interest?"

Harry sits up and looks down at Zayn, who is still sleeping peacefully despite the noise Louis just made. That's a speciality Zayn's always had under lock and key. The ability to sleep through any and everything. "Yeah, sure. I'll be out in a minute."

Louis nods, closing the door almost all the way. Harry slips himself out of bed and pulls his hair back into a bun, checking himself in the mirror one last time before heading out into the kitchen.

The smell of breakfast is evident now, eggs and bacon and maybe even pancakes. Harry's senses must be deceiving him. Louis can't cook. Louis turns and sees Harry standing there, arches his eyebrows. "I didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking," he says, taking a stack of plates from the cabinet.

"I figured that'd be a little extreme, even for you," Harry admits, unable to suppress a small smile. "I'm wondering how we ended up with food here."

"I went out this morning." Louis says simply, shrugging like its no big deal. This is a completely different Louis than the one Harry knew two years ago.

"We're not supposed to leave. Grimmy said seven days straight here. And you went out without security? You should—"

"Relax, Harry. Grimmy clearly didn't consider food, and it was like four in the morning. Relax. Are you eating or no?"

Harry nods, finally coming all the way into the kitchen and grabbing a plate. "Where's Niall and Liam?"

"Still sleeping. They didn't wanna get up. Eggs?"

Harry nods slowly, holding his plate out. He's wary. Extremely wary. This is very much not like Louis. He wouldn't have been caught dead in the kitchen two years ago, but now he can cook? And for Harry, of all people.

"Stop looking at me like I just murdered your puppy," Louis says suddenly, handing Harry's plate back to him. "If you have something to say, say it. Get it over with."

Harry blinks. "When did you learn how to cook?"

"I went home," Louis answers. "My mum."

Harry grabs a fork and stares suspiciously at the eggs.

"For christ's sake," Louis mumbles, taking the fork and practically force feeding Harry the food. "Chew." he demands. "I'm not trying to poison you, curly."

"It's actually good," Harry says, incredulous. "You actually cooked!"

"It's eggs, not rocket science," Louis grumbles, handing Harry his fork and stepping back.

Harry sits down at the island, spinning side to side in the rotating stool. "You should talk to Zayn," he says thoughtfully, putting a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Louis stops mid-tea making. "Why should I do that?" he asks. Harry can tell that he's annoyed, his mood has changed drastically.

"It's not like he killed someone, Louis."

"The band," Louis says under his breath, taking a sip from his tea.

"Louis," Harry says disapprovingly. "He's not a bad guy. We talked last night and—"

"No." Louis says harshly. "You don't get to talk to me about this, Harry. I figured I'd be half-nice and cook you breakfast but that's  _all_ I'm doing. I don't need a therapy session. I just need to get through this week. Grimmy is a fucking idiot for wanting this. Where does he even get off telling us to come here?"

"Don't talk about him that way, Louis." Harry frowns. "He cared about us, all of us, that's why he's doing this. He knows that we were all young and stupid when we split up and that there was a lot of residual anger for no reason and he cares enough to get us to try to fix it. Sure, it's not the most conventional way of fixing it, but..."

"Are you talking about  _us_ or the band? Was that some metaphor or some shit for us?"

"No, it wasn't a metaphor for us," Harry spits back. "But Nick probably had us in mind when he realised this is what he'd want if he ever were to die."

"I don't love you anymore, Harry," Louis says then. And, oh, okay.

"That's a lie and you know it."

"It is not a fucking lie, Harry. I don't love you. If I could I would take back those five years and these stupid fucking tattoos. Why did I even come here? Fucking Grimshaw, I should leave. I should just drive away as easily as I drove here originally."

"But you're not going to do that," Harry says slowly, matter-of-factly. "Because deep down you know that you care about him, and you still love Liam, Ni and Zayn. And you still love me."

"I don't."

"Pretend to be an asshole all you want, Louis. But I know that you still love me."

"You're the one who suggested we take a break, Harry."

"You're the one that threw an official  _official_ engagement ring at me the day you left, remember that? I said we should end it because—"

"We don't have to go through it again. I don't love you, Harry. At all. I'm not in love with you, I don't love you. So let's just stop, okay?" Louis says angrily, taking his plate and starting to walk out of the kitchen. "And, by the way, you must still be in love with me too, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

As soon as Louis leaves, Liam comes down the stairs. "What the hell is his problem?" he asks, referring to Louis.

"Don't know," Harry lies. "He cooked breakfast, though. It's actually decent."

"Have you guys talked yet?"

"That's what his problem is."

"So you lied? That's not very like you, Styles," Liam teases, smirking.

Harry rolls his eyes. "We started talking about us and he got mad. Rightfully so, I guess."   
  
  


**The Oceanic Feelings.**  
_The scariest thing you can think of, is giving up the thing that kills you. The thing you can't live without._

 

"What are we supposed to do," Niall groans, resting his chin on his hand. "It's been like twenty four hours and I'm bored already. We still have six more days after today."

"I imagine in a perfect world we're all working out our differences," Zayn replies.

"How come you got Perrie inked onto your arm and ended up breaking off your engagement?" Louis asks suddenly, looking at Zayn.

"How come you and Harry got an abundance of matching tattoos only to break off your relationship?" Zayn fires back.

Louis purses his lips and sits up. He walks out without saying anything else.

Harry watches Louis leave the room. Louis bringing up Zayn's tattoo was an open opportunity to bring up Louis' own tattoos. He must want to talk about the situation deep down, right? Otherwise why would he give Zayn the perfect opportunity to fire back with a hit at his own tattoos?

"Harry," Liam says. "I asked you a question."

"Oh. What?" Harry looks over.

"I asked what Louis' problem was."

"He's..." Harry sighs. "I don't know. He's upset, confused. Angry. And, why does everybody keep asking him about me?"

"You were with him for five years, we're pretty sure you still know him better than anyone else here," Zayn explains.

Harry groans, sprawling out on the carpet. "I fucking hate Nick Grimshaw!"

For the next twelve hours, the boys stay sealed away from each other. Separate sections of the house, no words exchanged.

At two-oh-seven in the morning, a crash and a curse sound out from upstairs. Harry sits up on the couch. He wasn't really sleeping, anyway. The couch is highly uncomfortable. Frowning, he treks upstairs and down the long hallway.

Niall and Liam are both sound asleep in their rooms, which brings Harry to Louis' bedroom. He takes a deep breath and opens the door. "Louis? Are you okay?"

The balcony doors are wide open, Louis out there leaning against the raining. He turns around, cigarette between his lips. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. He's got too much expensive shit around here. I knocked something over while I was looking for my cigarettes."

"You're smoking again?"

"I quit for a while, but I caved."

"Okay, well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Goodnight, Louis."

"Night Harry."

As soon as Harry closes the bedroom door, Louis groans into the dark night sky. "Fuck!" he curses. "Harry fucking Styles."

He puts out his cigarette and plops down in the chair. "Fucking Harry," he grumbles. " _Fucking_ Grimshaw," he adds as an after thought.

 **DAY TWO**.

"You know, there's something about the way that you flip those burgers that _really_ gets me going," Niall says jokingly, mock-seductive.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Shut up, Irish."

"So," Niall drones, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How was the couch last night?"

"Terrible, as per usual."

"Have you tried to get back in Louis' bed?"

"No." Harry scoffs.

"In case you haven't noticed, we've all made up. You and Zayn made up, Liam and I made up. Zayn and I are good, Zayn and Liam are good. You're still off with me and Li, though. Not sure why. But Louis hasn't made any effort. We think it'll start with you, my friend."

Harry rolls his eyes. "I can't make him do anything. He's made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want anything to do with me or any of us, for that matter."

"What's he said to you?" Niall narrows his eyes.

"He literally told me that he doesn't love me anymore." Harry says seriously. It's the truth. And it's not a joke, either.

But Niall bursts out laughing. Full on laughing that Harry hasn't heard in two years and that he's missed so fucking much. God, he's missed Niall's laugh. It's contagious, as it always was, and Harry ends up laughing a bit too. Finally sobering up, Niall looks Harry dead in the eyes and says, "Louis has talked a lot of shit ever since we met. He's full on bullshitting almost everything he does. But the one thing he never bullshitted was you, Haz. Ever."

"Exactly, which is why I believe him when he says he isn't in love with—"

"He is bullshitting that  _so_ much, Harry. I've never heard him tell a bigger lie than that."

"He told me if he could he would take back the five years that we had," Harry says softly, transferring the burgers that have finished cooking onto a plate.

"That's another huge lie. I've seen him talk so much shit. He lied all the time about so many things, but he never once lied about you—"

"You're contradicting yourself here, Nialler."

"Because you won't let me finish a fucking sentence, you shithead."

Harry exhales heavily and motions for Niall to continue on.

"I thought that he would never, ever lie when it came to you. But he's doing it now. To hear him say that he's not in love with you anymore... he's so full of shit, Haz."

Harry shoves the plate into Niall's hands. "Dinner's ready," he says, avoiding eye contact.

Niall groans. "You suck. You sucked two years ago and you still suck now."

Harry gasps, mock-offended. "How could you  _ever_ say something like that?"

**DAY THREE.**

Louis hears four voices outside, so he frowns, going over to his window. Niall, Liam and Zayn are all down on the beach, doing something he can't really tell what. Curious, Louis opens his window to see if he can get a better look.

"Are you wankers building a fucking fire?"  he yells.

"Get your ass down here, Tommo!" Liam shouts in reply.

Louis pauses, considering. "Are we getting drunk?"

"Of course we're getting drunk!"

"I'll be right down," he grumbles, more to himself than to the boys. He slams the window down and stands up, taking his phone before leaving the room and heading outside.

The only seat near the climbing flames is next to Harry, and Louis realizes that they planned it like this, the shitheads. He grumbles a 'fuck you' as he sits down in the chair next to Harry.

"Why do you have to be so fucking rude all the time?" Harry asks accusingly, angling his body towards Louis'. Louis can hear his words already slurring, which means he must've already been drinking before they came outside.

"I don't want to be here, that's why."

"Here, mate." Zayn says, handing Louis the bottle of vodka.

Louis leans forward and takes it with an uttered thanks, sitting back in the chair again.

"Do you guys remember all the times we did interviews with Grimmy?" Liam asks.

Harry smiles slightly, nodding.

"You two never got along," Niall points to Louis. "You and Nick."

Louis takes another chug from the vodka bottle since he knows where this conversation is probably going to end up.

"They always argued over me," Harry says, leaning closer to Louis in the other chair. "You were  _jeaaaaalous_." he sings, poking Louis' nose.

Louis swats Harry's hand away. "Shut up, would you?"

"It was a shame. Nick loved you. He thought you were funny." Harry continues, taking the vodka from Louis' hand and taking a big swig.

"Harry..." Louis says slowly. A warning, Harry has to stop talking while he can.

"that's why he had us do this, you know. He loved us. He cared about all of us. Gonna miss him. We all are. Even you, Lou." Harry says, swallowing hard. "He's gone and we can't do anything about it. We're stuck with the memories of the parties we had with him and the interviews and the movies and that's all we have. Right here, where we are right now, that's another thing we have. The fact that he cared so much about us that he wanted us to be okay again."

The boys all share glances as Harry speaks. After he goes silent, none of the other boys say anything. Finally, Louis says, "If we're going to do this, I'm going to need more vodka."

They drink, and put more wood on the fire. Drink, drink, drink until they're decently drunk. Harry is beyond it, as for Niall. That's how it was two years ago when they all got drunk. Sitting around and talking out of their asses. They wrote a song lyric about that.

"I painted my nails," Harry says. "You didn't notice. You always used to notice," he frowns, putting a hand on Louis' arm.

"They look good, H. Black's good on you." Louis says, gently nudging Harry's hand away.

"When did you stop loving me?" Harry asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Uh oh." Zayn says.

"Let's get you to bed," Louis decides, standing up on only slightly shaky feet. Compared to Harry, Louis is in much better condition.

"I'm not even 'ired yet, Lou."

"Let 'em stay, Tommo." Niall protests.

"Mhm, no," Louis shakes his head. "Come on, Harry. Let's get you upstairs, yeah?"

Louis helps Harry all the way upstairs. "We went past the couch," Harry slurs, pointing at it as they walk past it.

"I'm gonna put you in a bed tonight," Louis replies.

He takes Harry down the hall to his own room, depositing him on the bed. "You can wear this," Louis hands him an over sized sweatshirt. "Okay?" Harry takes the sweatshirt and stares at it. "What, do you need me to put it on you?" Harry shrugs, and Louis sighs. He helps Harry into the sweater and back onto the bed against the pillows.

Still, Harry stares up at him expectantly. "What else could you possibly need?" Louis sighs, exasperated.

"Tell me when you stopped loving me. And tuck me in." What is he, five? But Louis remembers that Harry gets like this when he's drunk and the best thing to do is go along with it.

Louis starts pulling the sheets back and tossing away the decorative pillows. "I never stopped loving you. The things I said to you the morning I made you breakfast, I didn't mean any of them. I'm still in love with you."

"What do you love about me?"

"Love everything, I guess. Your hair, and you eyes. And your lips. Those are my favourite. Love your tattoos and the way they look against your skin. Love your hands and the way you dress and the way you talk. Love it all, can't believe I let it go." Louis whispers, pulling the blankets up over Harry.

"So why did you do it?"

"Because you were going to cause me more pain than you were going to cause me anything good. When you told me you wanted to walk away I let you because I was afraid that if I fought for you I'd end up hurt. Try to get to sleep, love, I'll be back to check on you later."

Harry grabs Louis' arm before he walks away. "Wait, one more question." Louis sighs, looking down at Harry in waiting. "How come you told me all of that?"

"Because I know that you won't remember any of it come a few hours."

Harry nods. "Makes sense. Goodnight, Lou."

Almost hesitantly, Louis bends down and presses a kiss to Harry's forehead. "Night, Haz." he whispers.

Louis leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, leaning his back against it and groaning softly. Rubbing his face, Louis starts back down the hall for some water for both himself and Harry when he wakes up.

Zayn is puttering around the kitchen doing whatever the fuck he is (Louis doesn't really care, if he's being honest). Louis does his absolute best to ignore Zayn and just get the waters and go, but lately his life has kind of sucked.

"How's H?" he asks.

Louis takes two bottles of water from the fridge before closing it. "Drunk."

Zayn nods, leaning against the counter. "How are you?"

"Tipsy. If I stayed outside I'd be drunk."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"I'm trying to avoid what you actually mean, I guess I have to tell you since you can't interpret it f or yourself."

"I know that you're mad at me. I know that you think I'm a douche for leaving you guys behind to fend for yourselves. But I couldn't do it anymore, Louis. I physically couldn't be in that position any longer."

Louis lets out a frustrated breath, not saying anything.

"And I know that your thing with me is that you had it tougher than I did. And, you're right. You and Harry had it way tougher than I did. But if you scratched below the surface on me, you unearthed something that was all it's own. I wasn't myself anymore, you saw it. The only time you saw the old Zayn was when we got high."

"We stayed. You left."

"I am not you," Zayn says slowly, as if that could make Louis understand. "I'm not you. I'm not Louis Tomlinson who can take any and everything our shit management throw. I'm not as strong and determined as you are. I wasn't when I left and I'm still not now."

"I have to go make sure Harry's not choking on his own vomit," Louis says softly. "Drink water and eat something, it'll make the buzz go away faster."

 **DAY FOUR.**  

 

**THE DESIRE TO LIVE UNDERWATER FOREVER.**  
_If I breathe you in and you breathe me out, I swear we can breathe forever. I swear I'll find summer in your winter and spring in your autumn and always, hands at the ends of your fingers, arms at the ends of your shoulders and I swear, when we run out of forever, when we run out of air, your name will be the last word that my lungs make air for._  
  


 

"Morning, sunshine," Louis says softly, almost as soon as Harry opens his eyes. "You're gonna want these sooner rather than later, love."

Harry squints at what's in the palm of Louis' hand. Advil. Harry takes them and the glass of water gratefully. "Thank you," he murmurs, fingers wrapped tightly around the glass.

"I, um, you're gonna wanna take a shower. Bathroom's free now, the boys all already got done in there, so." Louis says awkwardly, though it's clear to Harry that he's trying to play it cool. "That's my sweatshirt that you're wearing, by the way. You can just throw it in the laundry when you're done. Or keep it, if you want to. Doesn't matter."

Harry nods slowly, watching Louis back out of the room. This is strange. Very strange. Louis is acting weird. Did they hook up? No, impossible.

Louis finally closes the bedroom door and curses himself for the seven thousandth time in the past four days.

He busies himself for a while until he decides getting into actual clothes would be a good idea, but that involves going back into the bedroom. Groaning only softly at the thought, he heads to the room. The door is wide open, meaning Harry must still be in the shower.

Louis starts digging around for a tee shirt to change into, finding one and pulling his current one off.

"Oh." Harry's voice is there suddenly. The door is shutting and Harry's standing there still glistening with his hair everywhere and the towel wrapped around his waist.

Louis swallows, hard. "Sorry, I'm just getting changed. I'll just grab my stuff and go."

"No, it's okay," Harry says slowly. He's staring shamelessly at Louis' chest and abs. "I don't mind."

Louis doesn't know how or why his lips end up on Harry's, but they do. He doesn't know how or why Harry ends up laid out on his back on the bed, but he does.

"Louis," Harry breathes out, putting two hands on Louis' chest. "Are you-you know what we're doing, right?"

Louis nods. "I want... haz...." Louis says brokenly.

"What? You want what?"

"You. I want you. So fucking much I want you." Louis exhales, pressing their lips together again.

"God, yes. Take me. You can have me, fucking please, Louis."

And, yeah, Louis knows what he's doing. If somebody asked him why he was doing it, he couldn't tell you. But Harry is here, right now in the flesh and his lips are softer than they've ever been and his body looks greater than it ever has and Louis can't control himself.

The last time Louis and Harry had sex before they split up, everything happened slowly. They wanted everything to be remembered. Their song _Love You Goodbye_ was on a constant loop in Louis' head that night, and even the days after.

Right now, however, Louis heard something fast and hot and dirty because that's exactly how this sex is. They're not trying to remember anything. If they're doing anything other than fucking, they're trying to forget. Still, they're getting familiar with each other's bodies again and so maybe this is about remembering, just a little bit. Re-remembering, possibly.

Relearning the way Harry's got two dimples at the bottom of his spine and recalling that that's the reason why the line in _Little Things_  was written. Seeing Harry's eyes well up with tears (only ever good tears when he's in bed with Louis) and remembering the lyrics in the song _Over Again_  and how that line was because of Harry. Seeing Harry's hair and knowing that Ed Sheeran wrote _Tenerife Sea_  for them. Remembering the lines from _18_ , to be loved and to be in love, and thinking about how two years ago those lyrics were the soundtrack of their lives.

So, yeah, Louis is definitely doing a lot more remembering than he's doing forgetting.   
  


**THE FUTURE IS MADE OF STONES.**    
_Don't be angry and make art often. For those of you who do not make art, will make war. And those of you who do not make war, will be left to make art from what remains._    
  
  


"Yo," Zayn shuts the sliding glass door behind him as he comes outside.

Louis turns around, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Hi."

"I wanted to say that I was sorry." Zayn says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"Sorry for what?" Louis asks, bending down to put his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"Everything."

Louis frowns, turning around to face him. "It was hard, you know. A lot harder than you saw or you were told. A lot harder than I had to lie and say it was. I've had to lie and tell everyone that everything was great between all of us, when it really hasn't been. It was really, really hard."

Zayn nods. "I know, I know it was."

"You don't. I lost my best friend when you left. I didn't just lose a bandmate or a colleague. I lost the one person who I told everything to. The one who knew about my crush on Harry before  _I_ even knew about my crush on Harry. The one who I spilled to about Mark and Troy before I even spilled to Harry. You're the one who told me to keep it together when things got tough and scary. You're the one who came with me to pick out a promise ring and the one who lured Harry out onto the balcony that night I gave it to him. You're the one I was plotting the fucking engagement plan out with before everything went to shit. So, you really don't know what it was like, Zayn. Because you weren't there."

"I lost my best friend too. You don't think I was feeling the exact same shit? We were everything for each other, you were everything for  _me_ even though you still had Harry. You still made me feel like I was your priority when I needed to be, exactly what friends are supposed to do. And then one day I decide that I can't take it anymore because it's not what's making me happy and I have to step away, I lose my best friend. I went through the same thing you did."

"If somebody asked you why you weren't happy, could you tell them?"

Zayn sighs, running a hand through his hair. He sits down on one of the lounge chairs, but Louis stays standing. "It's... You take a beating. From everyone. And you're on the road for like  _ever_ and you forget what home feels like. You forget what it's like to be a real person, to have a normal schedule and not have to be in the spotlight all the time. I got this feeling in my stomach that something wasn't right, and I couldn't put myself through it any longer. I needed home, I needed a constant. I could see why the whole being away from home thing never got to you, because you had H there with you."

"Don't spin this to be about me and Harry." Louis grumbles.

"I couldn't keep doing it. I wasn't happy and I wasn't  _me."_

"All of those fans. You made them so happy. So, so happy. The most happiness some of them ever had. They were beautiful, they were amazing and supportive and just fucking  _beautiful_ and all of a sudden you dropped out. Destroyed their happiness, why? Because you had a feeling in your gut?"

"Ah, so it's not just about you and your feelings."

"It never was just about my feelings, Zayn! It was about Liam and Ni and all those girls and guys who were crushed when you pulled everything apart at the seams. It was about fucking Harry, who didn't talk to me for two entire days after you told us you were leaving! It hurt him even more than it hurt me, I think."

"The fact that you just made it about Harry again when you told  _me_ not to make it about him should tell you something, Louis," Zayn says, standing up and starting to head inside.

"And now you're fucking walking away. I see you're good at doing that, aren't you?"

In complete anger Louis kicks the chair out of the way on his way by, making it flip over.

"Hey!" somebody shouts. If he didn't recognize Niall's Irish right away, Louis would assume he was going mad and it was the gods talking to him. He would assume he's going insane, obviously, because this week has just been insane. Gods yelling at him wouldn't seem that surprising. He looks up, seeing Niall in his window. "Don't kick Grimmy's furniture, you know he'd kill you!"

"Shut the fuck up, Niall."

"You're the one with such a loud mouth. Some of us are trying to sleep!" and, shit, is Niall talking about the sex or the fight with Zayn? "You two are out here being complete dicks to each other for no reason!"

Louis probably noticeably exhales a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"You can't stay mad at him forever, you know."

"I'm mad at all of you."

"No you're not. You're mad at Zayn, sure. Harry, definitely. Liam, probably. You're not mad at me."

Louis folds his arms over his chest. "Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?"

"I'm the only one you haven't snapped at and you're talking to me right now. You're not even showing any hint that you're pissed at me."

Fuck Niall, honestly. He's right. "I'm coming upstairs," Louis decides.

Niall grins. "I figured you would."

Louis stops in the kitchen for a bag of chips before going up to Niall's room, shutting the door behind him. Niall puts his laptop down and sits up, looking at Louis expectantly as he sits on the other end of the bed.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" he asks, leaning against the wall and opening the bag of chips.

Niall shrugs. "I thought you were gonna say something."

"I don't have anything to say."

"Okay, then I'll say things until you decide you've got things to say. Are you mad at me?"

"That's—" Louis goes to protest, but then takes a deep breath. "No, I guess I'm not."

"Then how come you haven't spoken to me for two years?"

"I haven't spoken to any of you."

"But if you're not mad at me and you really have no reason to be mad at Liam..."

"Because I thought I was mad at everyone. And I assumed everyone was mad right back at me. I was mad at myself for letting this all go to shit, mad at all of you for it."

"Why're you mad at Liam?"

"He's what kind of sent us to split up, no? During that big argument he's the one who said that he was done. Then it crumbled."

"I find it—"

"Don't give me a reason to be mad at you, Horan."

"Okay, let's talk about something else," Niall says instead, leaning back against his pillows. "I met a girl."

Louis arches his eyebrows. "Did you now?"

"A year ago? Yeah."

"Tell me about her, then, you dipshit!"

"Her name is Meredith."

"Okay..." Louis motions for him to continue on.

"I met her back home. She's great. We're..."

"In love?"

"Ever since the first month."

Louis takes note on how ever since he's said the word girlfriend, Niall hasn't stopped smiling. He's got this huge grin on his face that Louis realises he's really missed. He's missed Niall.

"Are you gonna marry her?" Louis asks, eyebrows arched.

"Fuck, I want to."

At this, Louis can't help but break out into a grin. "That's great, Ni. I'm happy for you."

"Oh. I expected some comments about the sex or something."

"I figured I'd leave you be... Is it good? I mean, while we're on the topic."

"Yeah, it is. She's amazing. But, uh, while we're on the topic..." Niall leans forward, as close to Louis as he can get without completely moving his body, "Who did you fuck?" he asks, pointing to something on Louis' neck.

"It's a mosquito bite?" Louis tries, wincing.

"Who'd you fuck? Harry, innit?"

Louis' entire body slumps. "Yes." he groans, palming his face.

Niall takes the bag of chips. "I figured. I saw him before, he looked fuckin' wrecked. Why'd you do it?"

"I don't know. You have to believe me when I tell you, I don't know how it happened. Or why."

"That's bullshit."

"He was there and I was there and something happened—"

"There's this thing called sexual tension, and it's been there ever since you got here on Sunday. If you two ended up in a room alone together, it was bound to happen."

"You mean... you could tell?"

"That you're still in love with him? Yeah."

"I'm not still in love with him," Louis spits, pulling his knees to his chest.

"If you weren't still in love with him, you wouldn't have had sex with him."

Louis frowns. "You don't know that."

"You wouldn't do that to him. Use him like that? I know you well enough to know that you'd never do that to anyone. Let alone to Harry."

"Great talk," Louis states, standing up and throwing a pillow at Niall. "Nice seeing you like this, Nialler, but unfortunately I can't carry on this conversation any longer."

Niall throws the pillow back at him. "Sit down, wanker. I don't care that you had sex with Harry, I never did care. I don't care that you're in love with him, I never did. I'm just trying to get you to understand that you're in  _love_ with him, still."

"I'm going somewhere to maybe to something productive. Actually, I'm going down to the beach. Yes, that's a good idea. Leave me alone."

"Good talk, Louis. Really."

Louis pauses in closing the door. "Yeah, it was. Missed you, Nialler."

Niall nods, smiling. "Missed you too."

Louis leaves the room with a small smile on his face, heading down the stairs to the patio doors.

"Hey," a voice from the kitchen. Louis turns, Harry standing there. He tries to speak, but the words get caught in his throat. Clearly suffering from a sore throat. "Where're you going?" he finally succeeds. "It's getting late."

"Sore throat, Hazza?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah, something like that," Harry nods. "Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

"I'm coming with you," Zayn announces.

"I really just have to go clear my head—"

"I have to talk to you. Like a civil human being."

They walk in silence down to where the water is lapping up. "What's up with Harry?" Zayn asks finally. 

"I don't know."

"You slept with him."

"No I didn't."

"When?"

"This morning," Louis sighs. "After he woke up."

"That explains his throat, then. How come?"

"Niall says I'm still in love with him," Louis admits, staring at the ground. "I beg to differ."

"You've always loved him, ever since The X Factor."

"We were never good for each other. It was, like, toxic."

"If that was toxic, then I wouldn't mind having that."

"Believe me, Zayn. I want absolutely nothing more than to be good for him, good enough. I want him all the time, I want my name to be the one on his lips and my name to be the one on his mind. I left him so I could do that. I left so I could go and make sure that I was being all he could ever need. I just didn't think he wanted me back. I mean it's been two fucking years, Z."

"You have like three more days to figure it out, then."

**_2:47 AM_ **

"Payno," Louis whispers, nudging the door open. "Are you awake?"

"I am now," Liam grumbles.

Louis enters the room and shuts the door, crawling into bed next to Liam.

"I want you to know that I'm not mad at you," Louis says, pulling the duvet up. "I was, but I'm not anymore. I know it's not your fault that everything went to shit."

Liam picks his head up. "I'm not mad at you either."

"I'm sorry I've been an asshole. Really, I am. I treated you like shit sometimes for no reason. That's just who I am, I guess. I push away the people that get too close, or something. I don't know."

"I understand, Louis."

"I better get a lot of good karma for this shit," Louis grumbles. "Apologising and everything."

"What happened with Harry?"

Louis groans, tipping his head back. "We had sex. And I'm still in love with him."

"Are you going to do anything about it? Last time this happened you wrote Love You Goodbye. Are we getting another epiphany moment here?"

"I had the epiphany while I was balls deep," Louis says teasingly.

"I'm all for talking about your relationship, but keep away from the bedroom stuff. I don't have to know that."

Louis rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest under the comforter. "I'm still in love with him."

"And? What's that mean?"

"I don't know. I haven't slept and I've barely eaten or done anything normal ever since, like, our second day here. I feel like the same eighteen year old kid with a crush again and I feel so shitty about it because I'm the one who let him go. What's that say about me if I come crawling back after two full years?"

"It says that you're human and we always have things that we can't give up. You come back to what you know, what you need."

"Liam," Louis exhales. "I appreciate your help, but you're using a fucking Taylor Swift song lyric and I can't take you seriously."

Liam quirks an eyebrow. "I am? I thought you didn't really like her. How would you know?"

"Harry listened to _1989_ , like, all the time when it first came out. The twins love her. I know my Taylor Swift, as much as I hate to admit."

"I'm sure that's very damaging to your gigantic ego," Liam rolls his eyes. "Anything but Swift."

"What do I do about Harry?"

"Maybe just see how it plays out? You can't change it, Louis." 

 

**Day Five.**

 

**THE ENDLESS NIGHT AND ALL IT PROMISES.**  
_You can be beautiful and new forever. Give me forever and I'll prove it._  
****

 

"Typically people don't just chuck massive stones into the ocean," Harry says, coming up beside Louis.

"Shit," he curses, startled by Harry's presence. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to watch you lob like twenty massive rocks," Harry admits. "Usually they find the flat, pretty ones to gently skip across the water."

Louis doesn't say anything, just turns the stone over in his hand.

"I've always loved the ocean, you know," Harry begins, and Louis nods. Harry loves the ocean. And the stars. Nature in general, Louis knows. "It's so mesmerizing. It's pretty and sometimes calm and gentle but then something happens and everything gets all crazy and messed up and cities are destroyed and people are dying. But then it calms down again, and the sunlight hits it and reflects and looks so pretty and you realize what a bitter sweet thing it is. Nick loved it too."

"Grimmy loved a lot of things you wouldn't expect him to love," Louis says, sitting down on the sand and chucking the rock into the water.

Harry sits down next to him. "I offered to drive him home that night. Not like he was drunk, but I thought maybe he'd like a ride home. But he wouldn't take it."

Louis looks over at him. "You could've died too, if you went."

"I miss him, Lou," Harry admits, eyes welling up with tears. "Every second of every day. I miss his phone calls and his texts and his jokes. I miss him."

"I know, Harry," Louis whispers, studying the side of Harry's face carefully.

"Why do the people we love always get taken away? It's no fucking fair." Harry says angrily, digging a fist into the sand. "He was a good person, he didn't deserve this."

"Nobody ever does, Haz."

"But Nick..." Harry shakes his head. "I'm really gonna miss him."

"I know."

Harry sniffles, wiping his cheeks. "You don't have anything else you could say to me?"

"C'mon Hazza, you know I've always been bad with emotions."

Harry let's out a soft laugh. "That is true. Very true."

Louis scoots a little closer to Harry and puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy into his chest. "I'm sorry you lost him, Harry. I know how much he meant to you." he whispers, kissing Harry's head. "It's gonna be hard, for a really long time. You're gonna question why it had to happen for a really long time. But I promise you that it'll get better, alright?"

Harry snuggles up closer to him. "You promise?"

Louis nods. "Yeah, love. I promise."

"The ocean is very pretty," Harry sighs.

"I should throw you in it."

"Excuse me?"

"You're sad, and you need to be happy again. If we were two years in the past, I'd probably haul you over my shoulder and throw you into the water."

"Let's do it," Harry states, standing up and holding his hands out for Louis'.

"What? Harry, you're insane. I was kidding, babe. The water is probably freezing!"

"Are you scared?" Harry teases, grabbing Louis' hands and pulling him to his feet. He starts to walk backwards, dragging Louis with him to the edge of the water. "It's just water, Lou."

"Harry, I swear to god," Louis mumbles, jabbing at Harry's sides.

Harry giggles, wading further out into the water.

Louis shoves him down once they're far enough in, Harry's head dipping underwater.

He doesn't come up, just pulls Louis down under too. They both come up spluttering salt water and pushing hair back from their faces. "I hate you," Louis mutters.

Harry laughs. "Wasn't this your idea?"

Louis frowns, splashing water at Harry. "This is fucking freezing, Harold. I hate you for dragging me in here."

"No you don't." Harry sings, wading even further out so he's up to his collarbones. Louis follows. "You don't hate me."

Louis splashes more water at him. "You're right, I don't."

"You got really fit in two years," Harry admits.

"So I wasn't fit before?"

"Got fitter. More fit." Harry explains, and Louis hums, not making eye contact. "Louis, I—"

"Don't," Louis whispers. The space between them gets shorter, and Harry can't tell if it's the waves pushing them closer together or their bodies just gravitating closer because that's what they do. "Please don't try to say anything."

"I have to."

"No." Louis protests, voice firm.

"Okay, then," Harry says slowly. This time he knows that he's purposely moving his body towards Louis, shortening the distance all the way and pressing their lips together. Louis is startled at first, but immediately melts into Harry's touch, something he's always done. And probably always will do. Harry plays with the hair at the base of Louis' neck like it's a habit, and it kind of is. Chest to chest in sopping wet clothes in the middle of the ocean with salt on their lips, they kiss, slow. Like there's nothing else in the world.

"You're beautiful," Louis is whispering before he even realizes it. Harry doesn't say anything in reply. Louis' two words seem like something more than just two words. Harry takes them as a sort of promise, almost. Yeah, they're like a promise.

Harry taps the base of Louis' neck three times. One, two, three. Louis breaks apart at that, turning his cheek. "We shouldn't have done that." Louis murmurs, backing away. "Get out of the water before a riptide takes your feet out from under you."   
  
  


**THE STONES MAKE SAND SLOWLY**

_If you are lucky one day you'll get the chance to have your life defined by how much you loved and how much you were loved by someone else._  
  


**11:11 pm**

"I wish for this week to be fucking  _over,"_ Louis says, shutting his laptop as the clock hits 11:11.

He stands up and heads out of his room, walking right into Zayn. "Fuck me," Louis curses.

"That's what Harry does, no?"

"Shut the hell up," Louis rolls his eyes and better tucks his MacBook under his arm.

Zayn frowns. "I thought you weren't mad at me."

"Of course I'm still mad at you." Louis snaps. "You left the goddamn band without saying a word about it to me. And then you think that you'll come here to Grimmy's after three years and everything will be okay between us?"

"We had a conversation, we seemed like we were doing well-"

"Because I'm not a complete asshole, as some people may think. I can hold a conversation while I'm still mad at someone."

"If you would give me more than two minutes of your time to let me explain myself and make sure you fully understand-"

"Okay, let's do it. Right now." Louis says, starting to walk down the hallway. "When you left I figured you wanted space. Harry convinced me that you needed space. So I gave it to you. But you never reached out to me, Zayn."

"Will you let me tell you why?"

Louis sets his laptop down on the counter and turns to face Zayn. "Please, fucking enlighten me."

"I was miserable. I've told you. I was fucking miserable. I was doing something that wasn't me. I was singing songs that weren't mine. I wasn't me. And I didn't say anything to you at first because I didn't know how. How am I supposed to tell you that I'm giving up like that?"

"Bus One." Louis whispers.

"I fucking knew you were going to bring that up."

"That was our thing, Zayn. Bus one was a Louis and Zayn thing, always."

"Please. Towards the end you and Harry were fucking on Bus One more than you and I were getting high."

"I'm sorry for finding a serious relationship?" Louis tries, incredulous. "You're gonna tell me that because I was having sex with my boyfriend in the back of the bus is one of the reasons why you decided to drop out?"

"No, your sex life has nothing to do with my emotional standing. I was being hit from every single angle with anything and everything. They made me keep it up with Perrie because people were already questioning whether I was with Liam or not, which I wasn't, never was. They want me to lie here and lie there-"

"So because you've got to deal with a few fucking rumors and a fake relationship gives you the right to leave the fucking band? What about me? I dealt with that stuff every single  _day,_ Zayn. They shoved Harry and I so far back in the closet we couldn't even see the fucking door. Then there was Eleanor, and Harry had to deal with that stupid womanizer image for the longest time until I took on even more shit. Then they dumped a fucking  _baby scandal_ on me after you left. Do you know how difficult that was? I didn't leave, though. Instead I stayed to watch everything crumble. But I fucking stayed."

Zayn nods. "Yell at me. Good."

"God, I can't believe you just up and left! And it took you so fucking long to tell me, too! I was your best friend. We told everything to each other before anyone else! We had a fucking pact. We were going to make it through the tour and everything was going to be okay right after that last Sheffield show. We were going to get a break, Harry and I were going to get to come out. But of fucking course you've got to come in, being Zayn Malik and the entire world always falls at your goddamn feet. Nope, everything stops moving for you, Zayn."

Louis grabs his pack of cigarettes from the counter. "I don't forgive you, Zayn. I don't now if I ever will. The fact that you just picked up and left and barely even thought to tell me..."

"Maybe I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be a dick about it! Exactly like you were!"

"If you told me straight up I could've tried to understand. I could've tried to look at it from your point of view or something."

"If you really cared about me, were really my friend, you'd be able to do that now, Louis."

"Believe me, Zayn, I've tried. I have tried so fucking hard to look at it from your point of view. And, I mean, maybe you didn't tell me everything that went on. Maybe we weren't as close as I thought we were. But I have tried to put myself in your shoes but I can't see how anything you were going through was worse than what I was going through."

"You're just that fucking self absorbed, then. We all have our reasons for doing shit, Louis. I couldn't handle being in that position anymore. I was doing something that wasn't true to who I was."

"They stripped me of my identity. I wasn't my version of Louis Tomlinson, I was the Louis Tomlinson they wanted me to be. You were given a few bad stunts that lasted a minimum of a month. Mine went on  _years._ You could've come forward and said that you wanted to try a new sound or throw in another lyric. I couldn't stand up and tell them to change me back."

"You know damn well they ran us all into the ground, even Niall. He doesn't even have any fucking secrets, he's never done anything bad but they still defaced him."

"You could have stayed. If you had stayed maybe we'd still all be One Direction," Louis says softly. "We wouldn't be here right now if you stayed."

"Louis," Zayn sighs, exasperated. "Please."

"I can't just  _forgive_ you. Get fucked, Zayn." he spits.

He's not even sure what he just said. Louis has no idea what the hell he was rambling about. He shoves a cigarette between his teeth and heads for the patio doors, storming as far away from the house as he can until he's walking along the sand. His eyes are watering and he can't tell if it's from the wind and the cool air or if it's because he's crying. Shit, he's definitely crying, Louis realises. He lights the cigarette and stops, turning to face the water.

"Louis, you fucking idiot!" Harry shouts. "It's the middle of the fucking night. I woke up to you and Zayn screaming at each other and he told me you left. Just stormed off and threw a tantrum like a fucking five year old."

Louis doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at Harry who stands just a few feet away.

"First you make it seem like maybe you're still feeling something for me and you fucking kiss me, then you stop and you leave. And now this? I just wanted to come here and remember Nick, Louis. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't think this week would turn out like this. At all. I was expecting more laughing and remembering Nick and making up. Instead we all got drunk and fought and cried. I don't want to leave here without making up with you, though."

Louis nods, taking a drag on the cigarette.

"I need you to say something. I'm going to go crazy if you don't say something, Lou. Please."

"I feel like everything is going to come crashing down. And I haven't felt this way since I left you." Louis admits, flicking the cigarette. "I don't know why I feel like this, if it's because we're all here and it's too much or if it's the fight I had with Zayn, or the fact that you and I had sex and kissed earlier today, I don't know. But I feel like everything is falling apart for some reason and I don't like it."

"I... I'm..." Harry doesn't know what to say. For the first time this entire week, he's speechless.

"It starts with you, you know."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowns.

Louis takes one final drag on the cigarette before stomping it out in the sand. "You're standing there and the moonlight is hitting your face and I really, really want to kiss you."

"So do it."

"Fucking hell," Louis tilts his head back. "That's the problem. I can't because then I look like an idiot for letting you go just to come back two years later."

"I heard what you said," Harry blurts. "The night I was drunk. You didn't think I'd remember, but I do. All of it, every last word I remember."

Shit, Louis is screwed.

"You can pretend that you don't love me all you want, but you do. You know it and now I know it too. Now we just have to wait to see if you've got the balls to fucking do anything about it."

Harry storms away, and Louis wipes his cheeks. He takes one look at he ocean before hurrying after Harry. He catches up to Harry in the foyer, Harry on his way up the stairs.

"Harry, wait," Louis breathes out, grabbing's arm.

"Let go of me, Louis."

"You might be right, I'm still in love with you. I've been in love with you ever since you fucking pissed on me in the bathroom," he laughs tearily, adjusting his grip on Harry's arm. "And I don't know why I let you go. I thought we weren't working, I thought we didn't fit anymore. But that's not the case. I am still in love with every single thing about you. I still want everything with you. I was wrong two years ago when I ended everything, so wrong. Never been more wrong about anything in my life. But I'm here now, and you're here now all because of fucking Grimmy, and he's given us a second chance. Or a third chance or however many chances we're on because I had a habit of fucking stuff up. All that matters is we're here now and I've come to my senses and—"

Harry cuts Louis off by kissing him. Slow and passionate like he's missed so much.

Harry draws back a minute later. "We can go to your room?" he suggests.

Louis nods. "Definitely can so that."

Harry kisses him again. He taps his fingers three times against Louis' jaw, and this time, Louis taps back.

//

"Louis," Harry says, coming into the bedroom. "What made you change your mind? How come you came back to me?"

"Because I never decided I didn't want you, really," Louis replies. It's two AM, they've just finished nice hot sex and took a bath. Louis has been laying spread eagle in his boxers on the bed for the past ten minutes.

"Then why did you let everything fall apart?"

"I was stupid. I still want you, Haz. Everything about you." Louis says simply, beckoning Harry over.

Harry straddles Louis' hips, tracing the tattoo on Louis' chest with the tip of his finger. "What about me?"

"All of it, just like I used to," Louis whispers, catching Harry's hand in his own. "Your horrible jokes and your amazing cooking."

"What else?"

"Your hair and your tattoos. The way you care about any and everyone no matter how much wrong they've done you. Your ability to keep loving somebody after they've treated you like shit."

"You're talking about yourself," Harry says quietly. "Don't talk about yourself like that, Lou."

Louis puts his free hand on Harry's thigh, tracing the tiger with his thumb subconsciously. Harry feels him tap three times. "Thigh-ger," Harry whispers, and Louis lets out a laugh. "It was a good one, you have to admit."

"It was. Can't believe you got a tiger on your thigh partially so you could tell a cheesy joke."

"It wasn't only the joke. It's the symbolism behind a tiger."

"Still pissed you broke the matching thing we had going on for a fucking tiger. What could I get to match a tiger?"

"You'd get another set of tattoos with me?"

Louis stares up at him, eyes wandering over Harry's tattoos. "I think so," he says, licking his lips. "I don't know how long it'll take for us to be okay again, but I do know that I don't want to give up on us."

"No I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough." Harry starts singing, way louder than he should be at this hour.

"Shh," Louis scolds, reaching up and putting a hand over Harry's mouth. "You're gonna get us busted, you menace."

"Can we go downstairs and see if there's anything to eat?" Harry whines.

"Yeah. Hop off and let me up."

As quietly as two boys re-falling in love can, they head downstairs to ransack the kitchen. Harry turns up with a pint of ice cream from the freezer and grabs two spoons.

As he turns around to show Louis, Harry ends up walking right into him instead. "Fuck me," Louis curses, putting two hands on Harry's arms to steady him. "You okay, love?"

Harry grins. "Fine. I found ice cream."

"We can see if there's a movie on TV or something?"

Harry nods. "Was thinking the same thing."

They get settled on the couch and turn on the TV, scrolling through all of the movie channels before settling on  _Silver Linings Playbook,_ putting the volume at a level that isn't too loud or too soft. They dive into the ice cream as the movie begins. Harry cuddled up to Louis' side and holds the ice cream in his lap, close enough that Louis can get his spoon in too.

"I'm not saying I would bang Bradley Cooper, but I would bang Bradley Cooper," Harry notes, pointing his spoon at the screen.

"Haz! You can't say that!" Louis exclaims.

"Shh," Harry soothes, sticking his ice cream filled spoon into Louis' mouth. "It's not you, it's just his good looks."

"Harold!"

Harry laughs, resting his head on Louis' shoulder again. "I missed this," he says quietly. "I want this with you, all the time."

"Can you believe that after so long, you're still my favourite person?" Louis asks, running a hand through Harry's hair. "Favourite to talk to, favourite to look at and listen to and be with...   Favourite everything."

"Lou," Harry whispers, putting a hand over Louis'.

"I wanna have everything with you, Haz. I didn't think I did, but I was stupid and I definitely do. I want everything. I want to give you everything I have, I want to share my life with you."

"Quit while you're ahead." Harry murmurs, tracing circles on top of Louis' hand.

"I wanna have kids with you, Hazza."

"Louis," Harry whispers, breath getting caught in his throat. "Don't talk about this like you're going to keep up on it, we don't know what's going to happen when we leave here."

"Hopefully we get our shit together. Thats what I want. I want you, Harry."

"Louis."

"What?"

"Shut up, you complete idiot," Harry mumbles, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of Louis' mouth. "You're gonna talk and talk and talk until you don't make any sense whatsoever."

"You taste like ice cream," Louis notes, licking his lips.

"So do you."

They continue on eating from the tub of ice cream and watching the movie that they've both seen probably a hundred times.

"Do you think that when its all over, you stand in front of God and he tells you all the good and all the bad you've done?" Harry asks suddenly.

"I dunno, love. Why?"

Harry shrugs. "I was just thinking about it. I think the only bad thing I've done is let you go."

Louis squeezes Harry's hand, going in for another scoop of ice cream. "Same for me, Haz." he whispers.

It's not much longer before Harry starts to doze off on Louis' shoulder, exhausted from the sex and the day he's had and the fact it's three in the morning. Louis moves the ice cream off of Harry lap and sets both their spoons on the coffee table beside it. He turns the TV down a few more notches and pulling Harry a little closer. They end up laying horizontally beside each other on the couch, Harry's back to Louis' chest, Louis' face buried in Harry's neck.

"Missed this," Louis murmurs, kissing Harry's neck. If you asked him while he was on his way to Nick's on Sunday if he'd be saying he missed these four people whom he thought he hated, Louis would probably laugh. It seemed like an impossible thing. But here he is cuddling his ex-boyfriend, who appears to be his boyfriend again, saying that he missed it.

"You think everything will be okay again?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Talk to Zayn when you see him again. Like a civilized human being. Don't yell at him, even though you think he may deserve it, he doesn't."

Louis exhales, breath fanning out over Harry's neck.

"You should, Lou," Harry enforces. Louis slides his hand into Harry's. "If you talk to him and fix your issues I'll let you fuck me again."

"I want you to rock me," Louis sings softly.

Harry hums. "Sing me a song. 'I Want To Write You A Song'."

Louis does, and Harry ends up falling asleep. After Harry's dozed off, Louis whispers three small words. I love you, accompanied by a soft three taps against Harry's hipbone.

/

"Hey," Liam says, smacking the back of Harry's leg. "You guys are taking up the entire couch, have been for the past two hours. Please move."

"Get off of me before you smother me, you menace." Louis grumbles, shifting underneath Harry's weight. How did Harry even end up over Louis like this.

Harry shifts and gets up slowly so louis can get up as well. Unlike Louis, Harry stays downstairs while Louis goes upstairs for more sleep.

"So," Liam says, watching Harry sit down with a cup of coffee. "What's going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Louis. Are you together? Are you just fuck buddies?"

Harry smiles into his coffee mug. "No, we're not fuck buddies."

"So you're together again?"

"Maybe."

The morning goes by slowly, coffees and bagels and morning TV shows. Everything's a little quieter without Louis, Harry can't help but notice. Zayn doesn't say anything to anyone but Niall, and Harry's pretty certain it was about the toaster oven. Whatever.

Around noon, he makes the executive decision that Louis has had enough sleep. He can go to bed earlier tonight. "I'm going to wake Louis up," he announces, standing up and heading for the stairs. He makes a stop in the kitchen, putting a kettle on because Harry is ninety nine perfect sure Louis is going to ask for tea.

"Somebody miss his boyfriend?" Niall teases, sticking his bottom lip out.

Harry rolls his eyes and flips him off on his way up the stairs. He opens the door to Louis' room. Louis is sprawled out face down on the bed, blankets covering half of his body. Harry pockets himself right on top of Louis, kissing his cheek and his neck and his shoulder until Louis finally stirs.

"Morning, Lou," Harry murmurs.

"Mhm," Louis hums. "What're you doing here? Make me a cuppa or something."

Harry laughs softly, kissing his neck again. "Want kisses. And cuddles."

"No kisses or cuddles until you've made me a cuppa!" Louis protests, still not opening his eyes. "Not kissing you until I get my cuppa."

"Yes you will," Harry argues, still kissing all over.

"Get off of me, you menace."

"Just want a kiss."

Louis cracks his eyes open and lifts his head to look over his shoulder. "Here's my lips. Kiss them."

Harry does, once. Short and sweet. "There's already a kettle on for the tea." he whispers, sucking gently behind Louis' ear.

Louis hums contentedly, letting his head hit the pillow again. "You're still the best."

Harry stays pocketed on top of Louis, and Louis doesn't really care. "Listen, Haz," Louis begins. "We came here because of Nick, because of what happened to him. And you haven't, like, said anything about him. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Harry lets out a breath. "Like I told you, I miss him. Miss him so much I can't breathe sometimes. It sucks."

"I'm here, okay? I'm here and I hear you and I see you and I understand. If you need anything I'm here."

Harry kisses Louis' neck. "Thank you, Louis."

"Always been here," Louis murmurs, shifting a bit under Harry so he can look up better. "Right under you. Quite literally at the moment."

Harry giggles, burying his face in Louis' neck. "Are you mad at me?" he asks.

"I was never mad at you."

"Then how come you stopped talking to me for two years?"

"Because," Louis sighs, pushing harry off of his back and turning to face him. They lay inches apart, fingers intertwined like it's instinct. "I was angry, and I was upset. And I thought you didn't want me."

"Well I want you. Forever. But now go talk to Zayn." Harry sings, kissing Louis' lips gently. "He's downstairs. The kettle should be ready. If you wanna, like, drink tea to calm yourself down."

"I'm not all zen like you, love," Louis smiles fondly, rolling his eyes. "Which, by the way, you must have been keeping up with yoga or summat, right? Very flexible."

"Yeah, maybe. Had a death grip going on you, too, I'm sorry about that," Harry traces a finger over a bruise on Louis' arm.

"You're okay. It was worth it," Louis winks, kissing Harry's nose before sitting up. "I'm going to talk to Zayn. And, tonight, you get fucked. Proper. Like we used to, yeah?"

"If the conversation goes well." Harry calls after him.

In the kitchen, Louis makes himself a cup of tea before setting off in search of Zayn. He finds him on the patio, as he's found Zayn a few times before. "Hey," he says, wrapping his hands around his mug and sitting down.

Zayn looks over, slightly shocked to see Louis sitting there.

"I was really mad when your magazine article came out," Louis admits. "The Fader one, you know? And just... the way you talked in that interview, the shit you said."

"What about it? You never called me to say that you had a problem with anything, Lou," Zayn frowns.

"First of all you brought up Harry and I when you had-"

"You know very well that I couldn't say anything other than that. And if I fucking outed you, you would've flipped shit on me anyway? Either way I was in a lose-lose situation."

Louis exhales heavily, adjusting his grip on the mug. He promised Harry this would be a civilized talk. He's trying to get laid, trying to bed his boy for this conversation. Zayn doesn't have to know that. "I just... you walked all over us, all of us. you talked so much shit about us, Zayn. You acted like you were better than us, or something. You didn't act like we were your best mates for five fucking years. You might not have liked the music or lyrics or whatever but you can't deny the fact that you forged real friendships with tons and tons of people."

Zayn is silent for a moment. "You're talking about us."

"I'm not just fucking talking about us, Z. I'm talking about how Niall trusted you with everything and you and Liam always had that little communicating without words thing going on. How Harry connected with you on some other platform in a way I still don't even fully understand, and I thought I understood everything about him. It's about how you formed relationships with the crew - with Paul and Preston and all of the security team, and with Lou. She treated you like... I don't even know, a friend. A really, really close friend. She did that for all of us. And Lux fucking called you Uncle Zayn. It's not just about me."

"Louis, listen to me."

"No, I'm—"

"Shut the fuck up for one minute and let me talk, you dickhead!" Zayn exclaims. "You've come at me so many times just rambling about whatever but you've never really given me a chance to say anything! If you shut up maybe you'll make sense of something, yeah?"

Louis purses his lips, staring down at his tea.

"You know what I was going through. You know how difficult I found some stuff. But I didn't tell you about the whole music, creativity aspect of it because I felt bad. Half of these songs were your songs that you wrote, half of them were fucking love songs about Harry. You wrote them and poured your heart and soul into them and I can go around complaining about my best mate's songs. And they're great lyrics. Everything you ever wrote was an amazing song, Lou. It just wasn't me. It never was, it never would have been. You need to realize that. It's been three fucking years and you still haven't come to terms with it, I don't think. I know what I did was unthinkable. I know you didn't think it could ever happen, I didn't either. But things just kept on piling on and on and on and eventually I just had to... go home. You never had that problem, because you always had Lottie on the road. And you had Harry, too. You guys were like home condensed into a person for each other. I didn't have that, ever."

"Can I say something?" Louis asks softly when Zayn pauses for a moment.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. I'm sorry too."

"Do you forgive me for being a dick?"

Zayn lets out a laugh. "Yeah, I forgive you for being a dick."

If you asked Louis if he was crying, he would immediately deny. But, he is. If you asked him why, he couldn't really tell you. But he is.

"Tommo, don't cry," Zayn mutters. "Louis, fuck."

"I'm not crying."

Zayn puts an arm around Louis' shoulder. "You are too. Don't cry."

"I don't even fucking know why."

Zayn rubs Louis' arm. "I don't either. I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

"I think I miss Grimmy. Fuck, I miss him. And I missed you and Niall and Liam and..." he trails off.

"Harry," Zayn fills in. "You missed Harry."

"Fuck I missed him so much," Louis exhales, shaking his head. "So much."

"You love him."

"I'm going to marry him. Like we planned."

"I know. So why are you crying?"

Louis wipes his cheeks. "I don't know. I haven't got a clue."

"Well, nobody has to know that you are. I won't tell a soul."

"I need you to do me a favour," Louis says, sitting up a little straighter so Zayn's arm falls off his shoulder. "I need you to talk to Harry."

"About what?"

"He won't talk to me about anything. I need to know if he's okay. He hasn't really talked in depth about Nick."

"I can't," Zayn blurts, shaking his head. Louis gives him a puzzled look. "I mean, I've tried. I think that's something you need to do."

Louis sighs. "Dammit. I'll figure something out."

"He's Harry, he's good at containing stuff."

"That's exactly what scares the shit out of me."

They're both quiet for a moment. Then Zayn says, "We're okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay." Louis nods, unable to suppress a smile. 

 

 **THE DECENT INTO LIGHT**.   
_If you're not afraid, there is no end, only an imminent bliss. So burn like love and love like fire._

 

"It's our last night here," Louis states, leaning against the counter.

"Thank you, captain obvious," Niall sings.

Louis rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. "I think in honour of our last night, we should have a fire. One where we don't all just get drunk."

"Okay, sounds good."

Harry, Liam and Niall set to work on the fire aspect, while Zayn and Louis attempt to find the folding chairs and a few blankets in case it gets cold. They all meet on the beach, where a nice fire is crackling and slowly gaining height.

Louis puts both hands on Harry's hips, squeezing gently. "Pretty fire, baby." he murmurs, kissing the back of Harry's neck.

"Thanks." Harry smiles.

"Let's sit down," Louis suggests, already tugging Harry towards one of the chairs. "Sit in my lap?"

"What if the chair breaks?" Harry frowns.

"Please. It can hold the two of us. Besides, that one's holding Zayn just fine!" Louis exclaims, gesturing over to Zayn, who lets out a sound of protest.

Harry does sit with Louis in the chair, situating himself so he can kind of bury his face in Louis' neck.

"I think we should talk about Grimmy," Zayn says suddenly. "Say stuff that's on our mind, or whatever, you know?"

Louis looks over at him, meets his eyes, and they share something that's even better than words. It's something that words couldn't have said, words can't describe.

"Yeah, I think we should." Harry agrees. "Do you three remember our last interview with him?" He's referring to Louis, Liam and Niall. Zayn, obviously, wasn't there.

"That's the one you had the robot voice, right Haz?" Niall asks, already starting to laugh a bit.

"I was on vocal rest. Singing or talking. I can do without talking," Harry replies. "That robot voice thing was fun. Nick thought it was funny."

"It was hilarious," Liam agrees. "Wonder what made you require vocal rest..." he says thoughtfully.

"Hey, it was not me." Louis defends. But, maybe it was his fault. Not necessarily in Louis' defense at the moment, Harry was loud in bed.

"How did that work in bed?" Niall asks, tapping his chin. "If you could talk and were on vocal rest..."

Harry feels his cheeks start to get hot, so he tries to press his face further into Louis' neck.

"I honestly don't even know if we had sex while he was on rest," Louis admits, rubbing Harry's arm.

Harry hates how open Louis is. If he had to pick out Louis' fatal flaw, it would be the fact that Louis gloats to any and everyone about the sex he's having. He's always done it, Louis has no shame. And, Harry will pretend he's got no shame, too. If it's around Louis' friends, like Calvin or Oli or maybe even Stan, Harry will pretend he's not the least bit bothered by the sex talk. 'I'm getting fucked, why should I be ashamed?' is usually his defense around Louis' friends. And Louis would make a comment about how his friends aren't getting fucked, and the conversation would come to a stop.

"I thought we said we were talking about Nick, not sex," Harry says finally.

"Do you miss him?" Zayn asks. Louis shoots him another grateful look. Wow, he's missed Zayn.

"Of course I miss him," Harry says, adjusting himself on Louis' lap so they can both be a little more comfortable. "He was my friend. My best friend, especially after... you know, happened. And, I mean, he tried to be more than a friend to me, I can't lie to you guys about that."

Louis goes to say something, but Harry taps his thigh three times as he does, and Louis shuts his mouth. Taps back. One. Two. Three. Harry breaks out into a small smile.

"We all knew that, Harry. You two were undeniably close," Liam points out. "Why do you think Louis hated him so much?"

"I don't hate him. That's no way we should talk about the dead, Payno."

Harry's breath hitches when Louis says that word. Dead. Nick is gone. Forever. Nick's family arranged his funeral, the funeral is tomorrow. Harry has to go stand and listen to people say all these words about Nick they probably don't even mean. Nick is dead.

He doesn't want to cry, he really doesn't. But he is. Maybe Harry can prevent Louis from finding out. But, no, Louis is too smart for that. He's already picked up on it. "Let it out, Haz," he's saying, rubbing Harry's back soothingly. "It's gonna hurt for a while but I promise it gets better. I know you miss him, baby, but it's gonna be okay."

If Harry had to pick out something he really loves about Louis, it would be how much he cares about other people. Louis cares about everybody, especially his family. Especially Harry.

"It's gonna be okay," Louis whispers, kissing Harry's forehead.

"Harry... have you, um, written a eulogy?" Zayn asks.

Harry sniffles, wiping his cheeks, only to have more tears replace them. "Kind of. I was just going to wing it, to be completely honest."

"Grimmy would expect nothing less." Liam laughs.

"And deserves nothing more," Louis adds.

Harry lets out a laugh, choked back and tear filled. "I knew you were going to say that. You're an asshole, you know?"

"But you love me, you know?" Louis hits back, smiling.

"I know," Harry whispers. "We should sing a song."

"Let's sing _Temporary Fix_." Niall suggests.

"That song's about sex." Harry deadpans.

Niall quirks an eyebrow. "And?"

"We should sing... _History_."

"How do you know Zayn knows the lyrics?"

"Of course Zayn knows the lyrics," Zayn says. "Zayn listened to all of those songs."

Louis smiles, feeling a warm feeling bubble up in his stomach after hearing that Zayn knows the words.

So, Niall breaks out the guitar and they set the smores aside. They sing the song like there's nothing wrong, like they've been together for the past two years. Like Zayn never left, like they never fought. Like Harry and Louis have always been just that, Harry and Louis. When History first came out, it was for the fans. It was about the hell of a year they'd had together, and how they'd become stronger because of it, how they were going to stick together. But, right now, sitting here around the campfire, Harry realises that this song isn't about the fans. This is about the four other boys sitting here. This is about their history and the rumors and the fights and about how  _none_ of the fancy stuff matters if they haven't got each other.

While Liam and Niall are singing a line, joking around a bit, Louis takes the time to whisper in Harry's ear. Three words, "I love you."

Harry smiles, burying his face in the crook of Louis' neck. "I love you too."

"You'll marry me, someday, right?"

Harry nearly jumps at the question. But he contains himself, exhaling a breath. "Are you proposing, Louis Tomlinson?"

"I very well might be, Harry Styles. Or, Tomlinson?"

"The answer is yes, I will marry you someday."

Louis kisses Harry's head. "Love you, baby."

Harry taps Louis thigh thrice as the song hits the chorus again. Harry notes how the song sounds with Zayn's smooth but sometimes rough voice mixed in. He can't help but sit here and think how things would be different if Zayn hadn't come and said he wanted to go home, how it would've been if Liam hadn't decided to throw in the towel. How different it would've been if Harry decided not to break up with Louis, if Nick hadn't died.

Then he realizes that it doesn't matter, none of it matters. Because he's sitting here now with these four boys that he loves more than the world itself and they're singing songs and having a fire and he  _loves_ them and it doesn't matter what it was like before. All that matters is the now. He's got his four favourite people around him and he's sitting in the lap of someone who's still the love of his fucking life after all this time, and that's all that matters.

If you asked Harry, or Louis, or any of the boys, if they thought they'd end up like this by day six, they all would have laughed. Except maybe not Niall, God bless the kid's optimism. But they're here. And if you asked them now if they'd rather be anywhere else in the world, you'd get five very, very firm no's.

//

""Nick Grimshaw was one of a kind. I've never met anyone like him. He was funny and witty and quick and caring and kind and all around a great guy. His accent was to die for and he knew he was attractive. It's a shame he's not here any longer. Nick's one dying wish was to see One Direction together again. To fix our problems. I thought he was crazy. I love him, don't get me wrong, but I thought he was absolutely insane. I'm sure the other boys thought so as well. By the end of the first day it was clear that some of us didn't really understand why we were mad, we just... were. That's exactly what Nick wanted to see fixed. He cared so much about the boys and I, about every person in this room. I thought Nick Grimshaw was crazy in a lot of things he did. When I turned 18 he hired me a stripper. One time I stayed at his house and he flipped off of the trampoline into his pool. He always asked the weirdest questions during interviews, always played the weirdest games. He named his dog Pig, which I thought was a pretty odd name for a dog. But, then again, that was Nick. And we're all going to miss him, that's a given. But each day the pain will go away, it'll hurt less and less, and he'll be a thought. Although, Nick's always been kind of pushy, so he might try to stay in your life a little while longer. I'm sure Louis will love that."

Everybody laughs, everybody cries. Harry doesn't cry until he's safely back in Louis' arms.

This might not be how anyone envisioned anything going. 16 year old Harry never pictured this. Neither did 17, 18, 19, 20, 21 or 22 year old Harry. Hell, 23 year old Harry didn't expect it either. Louis tells him that IFS how it was supposed to happen. When Zayn left, Louis found it in himself to calm Harry down. He said that this was life progressing, moving on, that change was necessary or else everything would hit a standstill and go to complete and utter shit. Harry carried that with him, and is certainly thinking of it now. Wrapped in Louis' embrace as Nick's ashes are scattered against the warm ocean breeze. And people sniffle and cry and whisper, but Harry feels three other bodies moving closer to him and that's all he cares about. He's not even hearing the other people around him, he's just feeling these four boys, whom he loves more than anything, standing around him and reminding Harry that they're there.

They're here and they're real and they love him and Harry loves them just the same.

 


End file.
